Durham Hooks into Delaney

The final applicant appeared before the interview board at 2.22. Eight minutes later it appeared all over for the opened-faced 32-year-old Durham Durham; he was 'shown the door'.

The other twenty-three applicants sweated on average thirteen minutes and nine seconds during which time they were questioned and challenged by the five serious-faced senior executives charged with appointing a special adviser on marketing to the President of Business America Jet Aircraft Corporation.

An hour later the chairman of the interview board presented a précis of interview results together with recommendations to President Delaney Springer. Thirty minutes later she announced she wanted to interview the top three candidates plus the bottom one; that person, deemed being the most unsuitable would be used as a reference point to expose the top candidate on a comparative basis.

Interview board chairman Harold Collins wasn't sure what that meant but Delaney appeared convinced she knew what she was talking about.

"She'll pick that coot Durham Durham," he joked to his wife, then realized he shouldn't interfere with fate – but it was too late, he'd said it.

The top contender received a tracheotomy on the sidewalk after being felled by a mugger wielding a baseball bat; the second opened the mail to learn she had contacted a STD requiring urgent hospitalization and the third mixed up the final interview date, thinking it was tomorrow, so went fishing.

Delaney and Harold had lunch with Durham who at times had them in fits of laughter and they frequently listened to him in awe. Obviously Durham was one of those guys who don't do well in formal interviews. Delaney looked at Harold; he nodded so Durham was offered the job. He accepted and didn't appear surprised he'd won through.

Next day the manager of HR drafting Durham Durham's contract called Harold: "We must get this new guy to change his name."

"Let him be," Harold laughed. "He told us his dad hated being called by his surname so made sure it wouldn't happen to his son."

Late afternoon on his first day at the corporate office in Chicago, Durhan flew with Delaney and her entourage to Washington; Delaney was due to appear next morning before a Congressional committee inquiring into aeronautic excessiveness.

Executives on the company jet took one last look at the corporation's submissions. The show of hands on which one of two strongest points to focus on tied at 4-4 so Delaney, aware Durham had been listening to the pow-wow though not included, asked for his opinion.

"Both contentions miss the mark a bit; go for the king hit and argue the corporation's philosophy is to think small and concentrare on fuel consumption efficiency."

"I be dammed – I think he's got it," Sam Usher, head of strategic planning, said while rubbing his misshapen nose.

That was settled. When Delaney congratulated Durham for his input she quietly invited him to have dinner with her that evening at an Italian family restaurant she sometimes visited. She gave him the address.

Delaney arrived half an hour late and the 38-year-old almost knocked Durham off his bar stool although she was still a good twenty yards away. The grey business suit and French roll and sensible shoes had gone – she was in cream silk, her auburn hair rippled down her back and she balanced herself confidently on 6-inch heels. He hadn't really noticed the small waist previously, now emphasizing what was above and below it and the heels forced him to notice the legs; he almost had to adjust himself because of sudden pressure behind his zip. Durbam fixed that by jumping from his stool early to welcome the approaching woman who looked worth a ravaging.

She cheek kissed him, smelling divine. He hoped he was okay having splashed on something called 'The Woodsman'.

"Hi, you look a dream."

"Dry dream I would hope," she said playfully, making Durham blink.

"Are you a Miss or a Mrs – I tend to focus on the big picture?"

She smiled and said she'd been Miss and then Mrs and then Miss and once more Mrs but was back to being Miss again. "And you?"

"Mr – I've always missed out."

They laughed and he said truthfully he was still looking; the ones he liked were already taken.

"That's life," she said wisely.

Their conversation continued mostly along that light vein under fairly robust drinking until at the end she said with sluttish unexpectedness, "Take me to bed."

He made sure she saw him lick his lips, "Are you sure you've gotten the right guy?"

"I'm sure. It will mean booking into another hotel but that's fine; I like to escape at times. I just need to call and advise I'm safe and going off air."

Durham removed the dress carefully. She indicated appreciation then grabbed him and buried her lips into his neck while he stroked her body, making brief hand visits to strategic parts. He pulled the long lacy chemise away and said, breathlessly, "You're wearing stockings!" He'd found some women liked being told that in a surprised voice and the way she was squirming against him indicated she was one of those women.

Ignoring the tits, simply because he was aware most women expect men to zero in on them at the outset, he bent and removed her shoes, she balanced with one hand on his back – a very hot hand, he thought. Lifting Delaney on to the bar he sucked the toes of her left foot and stroked her leg, noting her surprise he was interested in her legs or was that surprise he'd not removed her stocking before sucking?

Unfortunately, sighed Durham, I'm almost at the end of my surprises and she'll be thinking this is just another so-so fuck.

But no, she found the last surprise. Holding his erection she gurgled, "It's shaped with a bit of a hook; it's made for G-spotting!"

"What's that?" he asked innocently. She stared at him severely, suspecting he was lying, but the look of innocence held.

Delaney wasn't wearing panties as he'd noticed earlier; there was no sign of red hair down there – in fact no hair at all which was fine with him. Pushing his face into her – she was still on the bar – he licked and waggled until she was clutching him and finally she groaned, "The hook, give me the hook – oh please, the hook,"

Durham took his boss to bed and hooked her into abandoned ecstasy – three times and once again in the morning.

* * * *

Delaney was president and chief executive of a corporation that specialized in the manufacturer and world-wide sales and leasing of 'industry workhorses' jets with seats for four to fourteen passengers or the seats could be removed to carry freight. Not one of its aircraft was in the executive category as that high-value sector of the market was crowded.

Delaney's father Patrick Springer had taken an instant dislike to Durham when meeting him. He challenged his daughter asking, "What made you hire that idiot; look at the dopey way he dresses; what's more he doesn't talk like one of us."

"He'll get to you, father."

"Not in the way he's gotten to you," Patrick snapped; then noticing his daughter's color change barked, "Oh, Christ."

Later Delaney attempted to prepare Durham, "Um, be prepared for daddy to try to ridicule you. I don't believe he fancies you."

"Thank goodness for that."

They laughed and held hands until entering the boardroom, Durham being pointed to a chair against the wall where other senior advisers were seated.

Later in the meeting Patrick announced, "Item 17: Suggestion the corporation changes name. Over to you Delaney."

"Mr Chairman, it's proposed the corporation study a name change to Workhorse Jets Corporation."

"Why?" Patrick grunted, shuffling papers.

"Because it more accurately focus on what we are about."

"According to whom?"

"May my new adviser speak on that point?"

"Ah, the guy with one of the most unusual names on the planet," Patrick smiled, drawing an almost rehearsed round-the-table snigger. "Well young man?"

"Sir, I don't suggest this lightly, nor do I wish to take anything away from a proud company history. But time changes, the competition is becoming tougher, anti-American sentiment around the world is not going away so we should down-play our American connection in marketing abroad. Further, with Governments internationally seeking to curb wasteful usage of oil-based fuels this corporation should distance itself from the indulgent luxury aircraft industry with its provocative playboy-playgirl image."

"That's difficult to fault but any name change will be opposed. Refer this to our consumer sampling consultants and our marketing consultants, Delaney. This is big."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Survey sampling should concentrate on current and potential users of our production aircraft – every other sector with the exception of image-building to influence the minds of politicians is immaterial."

The white-haired and lined faced chairman stared at Durham while adjusting his striped tie. "Who let you in here?"

When the laughter died, Patrick said, "Brief the consultants along the lines just mentioned, Delaney. But have a very detailed examination done on the name 'workhorse'; I'm very uneasy about that. But then again I'm not, dammit."

A little later Patrick announced: "Item 32. It is recommended that corporation approach Boeing inviting Boeing to become a selling agent."

People coughed and whispered.

"Only one person on this planet would have a mind so twisted as to think up this one, Delaney. Get your guy to speak."

"Sir, Boeing offers a total service to its clients and likely future clients – from hand-shaking expertise to guarantees on aircraft to be delivered to them plus sweeteners in place for eventual replacements. You, Sir, produce aircraft they don't so they have to regrettably turn away clients wanting jet run-abouts. The solution for Boeing: establish a Workhorse Jet sales division. Okay, we lose some of the cream off the top available from direct sales but let's not forget, first and foremost we build aircraft."

Patrick threw the suggestion to the board. Discussion indicated a bias against linking with Boeing. Patrick asked if there was any objection that he and Delaney enter into information discussions with Boeing reps; there were none.

Finally from Durham, read out by Patrick: "Item 48: Aircraft have flown over both poles - Richard Byrd did the North Pole in 1926 and the South Pole three years later. Pan Am in 1977 claimed a record for a double poles flight, going from San Francisco and return in just a few minutes over fifty-four hours. Our corporation should investigated a Chicago-to-Chicago double pole flight under sponsorship in a Workhorse aircraft. Our technical people and engineers are keen to investigate, believing our 12-seater stripped out for fuel tanks could be suitable. We parachute mail somewhere on both poles for publicity and promote the reliability of our aircraft if this venture comes off successfully and market with the line, 'Our Workhorses Go Anywhere'. The originator of this proposal believes the double polar flight would have more public appeal than a non-stop flight around the equator."

Patrick pretended to be pulling his hair out. "Somebody, take this Durham guy out and shoot him. Convince us Delaney"

"We're not even looking for an exploratory budget at this stage. We just seek approval in principle from the board which will authorize our people when they have down time to do some serious calculations. If the venture proceeds I think we should arrange with NASA to have the crew of our black and gold aircraft in touch with the crew at the Space Station to increase publicity."

"Black and gold, NASA? You sound as if such a flight is a certainty," Patrick smiled.

"Yes, providing we snaffle a big-pocket sponsor. Durham has suggested our fuel supplier and supplier of navigation equipment would be potential secondary sponsors."

The board gave the investigatory project approval in principle adding the rider no budget had been allocated.

* * * *

At 6:00 Delaney with Durham in tow raced to the nearby hotel where she lived. At 6:15 they were in the pool being handed their cocktails in unbreakable glasses.

"Cheers," Delaney said happily. "Daddy told me over lunch with the directors that you 'seem all right', which is pretty impressive for him.

Durham added his piece: "He took me aside, said welcomed aboard and asked me to look after you well."

"He had no right to interfere like that."

"So fathers no longer have rights within their family?"

Delaney poked her tongue out at the board-shoulders guy with his mass of unruly multi-brown hair and broad, kindly smile. He'd make an ideal father, she thought.

After dinner they flopped on the bed. Delaney stripped him off and then sank on to his cock, saying after all that fooling around in the pool she was ripe and ready.

"I can't reach your warm tits."

She told him to be quick and remove her shirt and pull her bra down around her waist as she was ready to go. "Yippee, I love riding cow-girl," she whooped.

Later when finishing off with a slow one in Missionary she wriggled and ended up with her legs inside Durham's. As he began to pant she closed her legs tightly and worked her internal muscles until Durham was struggling to maintain thrusting power.

"It's feeling as if you are squeezing the head off the end of my cock. Oh fuck," he groaned, as she lightly rubbed the skin between his asshole and balls. He shuddered into impressive release. Recovered his breath, Durham stated with pride, "That was my ultimate ejaculation."

Delaney felt her heart go out to him. It didn't matter if he didn't survive at the office – he'd find something else. Corporation personnel basically were conservative thinkers and planners, which was just as well because mistakes tend to show up badly in aircraft, so it was likely their honeymoon with him would die. But her feelings towards him had been growing in leaps and bounds. She hugged him tightly and kissed him and whispered, speaking from the heart, "Will you marry me?"

Durham mumbled sleepily, "Yes."

She kissed him again.

They now had a great topic for discussion over breakfast.